


Theatre or: You’re My Waterloo

by LucyInTheSkye



Series: Sirius x Remus [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Breaking and Entering, Come Shot, Freckles, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21593818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyInTheSkye/pseuds/LucyInTheSkye
Summary: September 1979. A love-letter to a drunken London night, all those years ago.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Sirius x Remus [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483745
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Theatre or: You’re My Waterloo

**Author's Note:**

> The second title and the verses in italics are from the song "You're My Waterloo" by the Libertines.

_You'll never fumigate the demons  
No matter how much you smoke_

“I’m sorry to drag you away like this but I simply couldn’t have stayed a second longer,” Sirius said, flapping his arms around dramatically and his old posh accent bleeding into his normal one. He was holding a bottle of wine in one hand, a considerable amount still in it, and it was a near thing that he didn’t spray himself, Remus and a passing gaggle of muggle women on a hen night with it. 

“It’s alright, it was more your scene than mine, anyway.” 

Remus had only agreed to come with after he had calmed his nerves with several roll-ups of a more herbal variety. After them, the night had been surprisingly good, even if it hadn’t strictly been Remus’s scene, whatever that was. (A deep dark forest? A dusty old library? Sirius’s bed, definitely Sirius’s bed.) There had been a live band in the beginning of the evening and plenty of drinks after they stopped playing. Several muggle women had unsurprisingly hit on Sirius, even when he held Remus’s hand. He had come up with clever, funny, sometimes scathing rebuttals to make Remus laugh, and it had mostly worked. The drunker Sirius got, however, the more eager he became to kiss Remus, and he hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. 

“Might be better to kiss at home in the future, or even just in a dark corner when we’re out and about. On top of the table in the middle of a bar is a bit much, even for you.”

Sirius pouted at him, but despite the theatrics there was something hard and self-righteous in his eyes, too. 

“I’m happy to go home now,” Remus continued.

“Who said anything about home?”

Sirius gave him a lewd wink, then stopped in the middle of the street to chug down some wine. Remus stopped as well, ignoring other revellers making their slow way to a night-open greasy spoon or to a night bus. He was trying to be all mature and patient and slightly patronizing as he waited, perfect picture of the long-suffering boyfriend of a man-child, especially when he saw the trickle of wine gleam as it ran down Sirius’s chin and neck. Somehow, the only thing Remus ended up feeling was an insistent stirring in his trousers. 

Someone bumped into Sirius and made him drop the bottle, which exploded spectacularly at his feet. Remus stepped up, worried sick that Sirius was about to punch someone, probably the wrong person at that, but Sirius burst out laughing instead. Remus smiled back, glass crunching underneath his feet, and Sirius embraced him in the middle of the street, brought his wine-stained lips against Remus’s.

There was whistling and some cackling laughter, along with some darker mutterings. Remus kept his eyes shut and kissed Sirius back. 

“Let’s do this somewhere more private,” he mumbled against Sirius’s lips. Sirius was keeping his hands on completely respectable bits of Remus’s anatomy, but the bit between Remus’s legs seemed to be interested in making an appearance even so. Besides, Remus was rather private about these things, as a rule. That he let himself be kissed out here was in direct consequence of noticing how many women (maybe some men, too) there were who wanted his man. Remus’s jealousy could probably take the reserved part of his nature in a fight. 

Sirius stopped kissing him, pressed their foreheads together and squeezed him tight.

“Maybe I need the whole world to see I love you.”

“Why do you love me?” Remus couldn’t help but ask.

Sirius laughed and pushed him away, then lit a cigarette.

_Just say you love me_  
_For three good reasons_  
_And I'll throw you the rope_  
_You don't need it_

Lambeth was not an area of London Remus was particularly familiar with, but it appeared to be completely quiet in the small hours which he appreciated. 

Sirius had grown up in London, and of course they had moved to London together straight after Hogwarts, which meant he had lived here for most of his life. Sirius was clearly on friendly terms with the city, since even when he didn’t know where they were, he always seemed relaxed, as if he fully believed that it was not possible to get lost in the great city.

They rounded a corner and Remus just caught a glimpse of a slightly more imposing building before Sirius yanked him into a narrow, dark alleyway. He succeeded immediately in crowding Remus against the wall, they were nose to nose and Sirius put one of his own hands against the bricks behind, a makeshift cushion for the back of Remus’s head before he was pressed flat against the wall. 

Sirius stared intently into his eyes. There was a streetlight on the wall opposite, casting light and shadow in equal measure, and Remus stared in fascination at his lover’s beautiful face. Some days, it made no sense how something like Sirius could exist at all.

Sirius made a horny noise and looked from Remus’s eyes to his mouth, then further down.

“Did you just pull me in here because you don’t know where we are?” Remus asked, a little breathless and growing hotter by the second.

“’Course not. I need a stage to showcase my love for you, and we’re getting there. Just need to have a look, first, maybe an aperitif to keep me going.”

“I won’t fuck you in an alleyway again, Sirius, it’s-” Remus paused, looking for the right word to describe the horrors he had seen, the horrors he had been. “Unhygienic,” he finished, and he refused to hear how lame that sounded, even as Sirius grinned. 

“We’ll need to open a few of these pesky buttons, I reckon,” Sirius told him quietly, fingers fumbling. Remus’s neck was bared, his thin autumn coat that didn’t fit him went even slacker around his shoulders. Sirius stared intently at his neck while his fingers worked, and Remus could feel the fingers of the hand behind his head flex with energy. 

“What are you doing,” he mumbled, although he could already feel that this was a losing battle. If Sirius was working up to ordering him to turn around and spread his legs and bend over, then that was undoubtedly how Remus would be spending his night.

“Just looking for… Ah.” Sirius’s free hand trailed over Remus’s neck, gentle but spread in a way that told Remus that this would get both sexy and frightening if he decided to press down. Remus made a small noise, and he felt Sirius press a thigh in between his legs. His hand stroked its way up to Remus’s jaw line, took Remus’s chin and turned his face to the side.

Remus whimpered. 

“This freckle in particular, yeah this one, I reckon, is the one I love best about you.”

Sirius poked carefully into Remus’s exposed neck, pressure so light it was doubtful if Remus would have felt it at all had his nerve endings not just been set on fire.

Sirius took his face again, this time with both hands, and turned Remus back for a kiss. 

_You are the survivor  
Of more than one life_

The backdoor to the theatre had been right next to them while they kissed, an old but sturdy thing with a lock that looked decidedly newer than the rest.

“I don’t believe it’s right to break into muggle places with magic,” Remus said, because even if he would stoop low enough to shag in dark alleyways, he felt like he should at least have some principles.

Sirius opened his mouth and stopped, as if he could taste the reproach in the air. Then he smiled, a smile Remus knew all too well, and he stowed his wand back in his pocket and instead took out something that gleamed in time with his eyes.

“A knife?” Remus asked.

“Not just any knife,” Sirius declared, turning back to the door he had been about to break open with an ‘alohomora’. He fitted the blade between door and doorframe, right where the keyhole was, and slid it down. 

The door clicked open, and Remus didn’t need his lover to turn around to know how smug he looked. 

“After you,” Sirius said, holding open the door. 

_You're the only lover I had  
Who ever slept with a knife_

“What if someone comes in and sees us?”

“At arse o’clock in the morning?”

“Muggles do have security systems, you know. To protect themselves from burglars.”

“Lucky we’re not out to burgle this place then, innit?”

Sirius pushed open the door at the top of the narrow little staircase. Remus hesitated, but only for the fraction of a second.

The door led them to the side of the stage. 

Remus drew breath and had to stop. It was a lot to take in for someone who had never been on stage, and certainly never dreamed of it (except, maybe, in horribly embarrassing nightmares). He leant back against the wall, only to almost stumble and fall as it became clear that this wasn’t a real wall at all, but part of the set.

Sirius, on the other hand, appeared to be utterly at home on the stage. Remus let his eyes trail after his lover as he strode towards the centre of the stage, coming to a decisive halt as if he’d found his cue, and pulling out his wand. A spotlight appeared, startlingly powerful, shining down on Sirius.

There were some old-fashioned bits and pieces of furniture along the stage, and the pictures on the painted plaster walls were of exotic birds. In the middle of the stage next to Sirius there was an Oriental rug and a divan with burgundy velvet and golden clawed feet. The front curtain was a heavy red and had been drawn, but with another flick from Sirius’s wand it began to open, muggle mechanics reluctantly grinding into action via magic. 

Remus’s breath caught again as row upon row of seats came into view, looming in the distance and both revealed and hidden by the piercing spotlight shining on just Sirius and the divan and a bit of old rug.

_And you see I've brought you flowers  
I've brought you flowers all collected from the Old Vic Stage_

“Come closer.”

Remus shivered, because Sirius’s voice was so loud in a room designed to carry everything that was said, and because part of his brain kept showing him images of hundreds of muggles in their Sunday best, seated on the other side of that spotlight, gawping at Sirius and waiting for the show to start.

Remus walked along the fake wall, his face glued to Sirius’s blinding beauty. Sirius had turned his back to the seats, had stuck his hands into his pockets, shoulders not so much squared as relaxed, one hip cocked comfortably. His hair shone underneath the bright light from above, his exquisite face set in different shadow to what Remus was used to.

Remus circled him slowly, keeping close to the fake walls and the props. Sirius’s eyes followed him, not losing sight of him for even a second, and as was common for them Remus had no idea who was prey and who was predator. The thought struck him that he could probably morph into the role of either, but also that Sirius did not think in those same terms. Although, if he asked, Sirius would probably agree to pretend, just for him. Act it out.

Remus licked his lips hungrily as he came to a stop by a protruding mirror, cracked from time and framed in flaking gold. Remus felt no interest in looking into its depths, all he wished to see was there, underneath the golden spotlight. He removed his jacket and hung it over the mirror, face turned towards his lover. Sirius didn’t break the eye contact, but he did draw his wand again. As Remus watched, snow began to fall within the circle of light. Scratch that, not all of the flake-like things were white, around half were red. Something else, then.

Remus needed to be closer, and he found that there really was nothing stopping him, at least not outside of his own head. He took measured steps towards the light, careful not to stumble as he reached the frayed corner of the Persian rug.

Sirius pocketed his wand, but his hands didn’t leave his trousers. There was a greedy noise that echoed over the rows of seats, and Remus blushed and fell quiet again, stopped walking, so close to the bright light now that he could feel the warmth it radiated.

Sirius let his trousers pool by his feet, then he began unbuttoning the fancy silky thing he had been wearing for a shirt. Remus watched, gorged himself on the sight of that incredibly soft bright skin and the bulging strength and the fine-cut bones underneath. Rose petals fell steadily from the ceiling, blended with Sirius’s effortlessly self-styled hair and rested on his broad shoulders.

“All yours,” he said softly and extended his bare arm towards Remus.

_I'm so glad we know just what to do  
And exactly who's to blame_

Remus chewed nervously on his bottom lip and his gaze flickered between Sirius’s hand and the hundreds of empty seats facing them.

“Just you and me,” Sirius continued quietly.

Remus nodded, once, but he made no move to take the hand that was trying to reach him.

“Let me make love to you,” Sirius said.

“ _Make love_?” Remus repeated, expecting it to be a joke. Sirius smiled, and yet Remus was gripped by the wonderful feeling that it wasn’t a joke at all. It was all in Sirius’s eyes. 

“Stop being a fucking knobhead and come here,” Sirius said, voice just as quiet and seductive as before. It was Remus’s turn to smile.

_I'm so glad we know just what to do_  
_And no one's left_  
_Stumbling around_  
_Tumbling around_  
_Fumbling around in the dark_  
_Always in the dark_

Stepping into the bright light was easy after that. Remus could see nothing but Sirius, Sirius’s white skin bathing in light, Sirius’s grey glittering diamante eyes, his black hair gleaming as it framed his head, a few strands in the middle of his chest, the thin happy trail like the only true road to Rome, the trimmed hair between his legs not abundant enough to provide any semblance of modesty for his pretty pink cock.

“So soft,” Remus murmured, touching, and his arm was arrested and brought back to his own body by Sirius.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re a tad overdressed for this particular production.”

“Mmm,” was all Remus had in response, lifting his arms agreeably to let Sirius pull his woolly jumper over his head. He blinked when the jumper was gone, back in the hot spotlight, and when he looked behind Sirius he wondered if this was how he did it. If this was the trick. 

He could see nothing, just darkness, the spotlight completely blinding save for what was in the circle with him.

“There we are,” Sirius muttered from the floor as he successfully got the zip to open where it had gotten stuck, and Remus, who had decided he would just go with the flow from now on, still found himself flinching like a wounded animal when his groin and thighs were bared.

“You know I don’t care about that,” Sirius said sternly, pushing away the hand of Remus’s that had flown up to cover the extensive werewolf scar on his hip. They had been here before, of course, and Remus noted vaguely that this was an argument he never seemed to win. Some days he had the self-consciousness to fight, but the hollow feeling shrinking away inside told him that today wasn’t one of them. Small mercies in recreational drugs and drink, he supposed. He let his hands hang uselessly by his sides, ignoring how well the white and pink scar tissue was lit up. 

He looked back down, to watch his own cock fill out as Sirius playfully licked and kissed it, and he inadvertently sent a cascade of red and white rose petals over Sirius’s kneeling form. They were still falling. They felt rather nice, Remus thought, where they hit his back and head, soft and cool and gentle, just short of ticklish. The light from above was warm, although Remus thought it likely that Sirius had performed a heating charm as well. 

“Lie down for me,” Sirius said, and Remus let himself be arranged on his back on top of the divan beside them. It was soft and covered with flower petals, the velvet upholstery was worn light and shiny in places. It groaned when Sirius got on top of Remus.

“How would you like to get off?” Sirius mumbled into his skin, his mouth sliding slowly along Remus’s jaw and his hand cupping the back of Remus’s head. 

Remus pondered the question, or pretended he did. Really, he mostly just spread his legs wider to find a good angle for his needy prick, and to give himself leverage. The divan wasn’t very broad, but neither were the two of them and Remus managed to plant his feet on the upholstery.

Sirius began playing with his nipple, hand flat against Remus’s side and thumb coaxing the little nub into a stiff peak, and seemingly not content even when this was achieved. Circling and massaging and teasing and pressing the pad of his thumb into it, by now left completely over-sensitized, then punishing it with the sharp edge of his nail.

Remus gritted out a curse and turned his face until he could steal Sirius’s wine-stained bottom lip, take it between his teeth, bite and suckle and softly ravage while he rubbed his groin against his lover. Sirius pressed in with his knees and suddenly they slotted together, Sirius’s knees by Remus’s waist and Remus wrapping his legs around Sirius’s lower back. Remus reluctantly let go of Sirius’s lip, because he needed to moan out loud, needed to hear the shocking echo the architecture of the theatre they were in provided them with. The spotlight above burned.

“Going to come all over your stomach,” Sirius informed him between pants, now scratching blunt nails down Remus’s scalp, down to his sensitive neck and spine, and Merlin’s beard he didn’t even know he could make noises this loud, Remus wasn’t supposed to be the loud one, was he? “Going to paint it like more freckles, more delicious freckles all over your body…”

Sirius’s hand flew down to the floor on the side, came back up, and next thing Remus knew Sirius was sitting up on his knees, back arching and squeezing both their pricks together in one hand, fingers fitting around as best they could, rough pulsating squeezes and his thumb went _just there_ , squeezed Remus _exactly there_ , all the while his other hand rubbed mounds of rose petals into Remus’s chest, crushing and scratching, taking petals and a nipple and _twisting_ …

Remus opened his mouth in a scream but absolutely nothing came out of his mouth, his orgasm breathtakingly silent. He kept his eyes screwed open, arched first his back then his neck, saw his own messy come paint his belly and chest and all the red and white rose petals. 

He whimpered.

Sirius released him, took a firmer grip on himself, and for a second he looked rather impressive as he towered above Remus. Then the illusion was gone, and his face moulded into something childishly blissful, hand fast on his cock as he covered Remus with even more come.

“Fuck me. Just look at you, so pretty…” Sirius stopped to catch his breath, and Remus even though there was a little catch in his voice, as if it had been about to break. A rose petal hit him square between his eyes when he lifted his neck to look at himself. 

Every single other instinct told him he looked anything but pretty, but then Sirius made another small, vulnerable noise and stroked a thumb over the come-stained petals that covered one of his nipples. He brought it up to his mouth, a soft white petal sticking to the side of his mouth as he tried Remus’s come on his tongue.

“Gave you more freckles, get it?”

“You’re strange,” Remus told him, struggling to sit up and feeling the mess slide down his torso.

Sirius was quick to gather him up, to hold him in his arms and press them close together. The rows of seats in the theatre were still empty, but Remus kept an eye on them while they kissed, just to be sure. 

“I love you because you’ve got so many sexy freckles,” Sirius said out loud, and Remus froze in his arms. “And because you’re funny and kind and clever. I love you because you treat other people so well, yet you never expect anyone else to treat you the same in return.”

Remus tried to kiss him, but he turned his face and tickled Remus’s belly, and Remus was too tired and possibly too drunk to do much in the field of fighting back. Sirius put his mouth right by his ear, lowered his voice into a whisper that wouldn’t carry to the seats in front.

“I love that you let me help you with your furry little problem, that you let me in so that we can tackle it together. And I especially love that you’ll get drunk and stoned with me, then follow me around London in the middle of the night, follow me into a dusty, empty old muggle theatre, lie down underneath a spotlight and let me cover you in spunk.”

“I thought it was supposed to be more freckles?” 

“You’re so gullible,” Sirius whispered, and that was it, Remus finally got to his mouth, mashed his own into it, no finesse and almost with a bit of anger behind it. Although maybe not, he thought, changing the angle and accepting a hot wet tongue, because he wasn’t really angry, was he? Just exhausted, and unnecessarily sticky. His heart felt oddly tender, as well, clearly it hadn’t gotten the message that Sirius was being a pervert rather than a cute and loving boyfriend.

“Can we apparate from here?” he asked sleepily, snuggling into Sirius’s broader frame.

“Yeah. I’ll get our stuff, wait a sec.” 

Remus laid down alone on the divan and stared blankly into the non-existent audience. The rose petals were still falling, leaving tickling sensations all over his body. Sirius came back to him, naked and rather sticky himself, hair falling in an annoyingly elegant way into his eyes. He was carrying all their clothes and his wand and his eyes roamed over Remus’s stretched-out form. Remus had no energy left to feel self-conscious with. 

“Tell you what. I might’ve made you into a filthy, sticky come rag, but at least you smell like roses.”

“I will fucking kill-” Remus yelled, but before he finished, Sirius had extinguished the spotlight, stopped the rose petal charm and twisted them both into apparition. 

_I'm so glad we know just what to do_  
_And everyone's gonna be happy_  
_Everyone's gonna be happy_  
_Everyone's gonna be happy_  
_But of course_


End file.
